Silence leans, heavy and low in these woods.
Assailing ears filled with previous sounds
It drowns them in quiet. I sense I could
Smell the ancient, mishapen trees around
As they lie fallen in streams, which willfully
Wetting and liquidly glassing them, burst
Before bubbling away. Pregnant air, still
And languid, careless feet tread unrest, first
Bird then butterfly, but calm descends again,
Throws soft muffles of magical peace over
The atmosphere, and silhouettes the same
Age-old green things found here. Uncovering
The draw of this spell-binding place, I may
Then, today in wildwood haze, find a fey!
Wonderful, wonderful, wonderful, what more can I say 10 for Fay Lynda xx
Lovely image this creates Fay...I feel like I was on this walk with you...10+++
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
i really like this also, I am one for these types of poems, full of mystery and fairy like charm, i am loving your description of sound, or the lack thereof, by first personifiing it, then saying how it Assails the senses almost making it seem loud, very very good writing my freind...keep it up